Mensou Nitotte Shun
by Li'l Yahiko
Summary: M for later chp. violence. Mirai Trunks timeline. Trunks goes into the city to investigate an attack and finds himself captured by a man who's out to create the perfect android... using alien DNA. With the help of his fellow prisoners, can they stop him?
1. Dr Glock

**Mensou Nitotte Shun**

(Dragonball Z and all related properties belong to Akira Toriyama)

Chapter 1: Dr. Glock

He heard himself make a noise, kind of like a groan…

When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up into… complete and utter blackness…

Where am I?

He forced his body up into a sitting position, feeling the wounds that plagued his body sting. He was drawn to the light that came from his wrists, a light made by what looked like red energy floating around in a circle and attached to a chain… like… handcuffs… or…

He shook his head, trying to get the throbbing pain out of it, but to no avail.

What happened?

He sat there for a few moments, listening to the silence, when suddenly, it struck him. His eyes widened, and he could have shouted out, had he not been as cautious as he was.

Wait! I remember now!! …Explosions… I was investigating… explosions…

He remembered his flight into the city, his mind filled with rage at whomever NOW was trying to hurt the innocents. With his sword on his back and his fists at his side, he had bolted into the sky, his mother's voice behind him… saying…something… He couldn't really remember what she'd said… It was probably something along the lines of "Be Safe." He didn't know…

He had arrived in a particularly run down, ruined part of the town where he'd sensed most of the danger coming from and walked quietly among the building graveyard.

And that was when… I saw…

An energy beam had destroyed another concrete wall, sending everything tumbling down, but he had been far from interested in that… Not with the shooter standing before him.

It was…

"I've been waiting for you," The shooter had said, a smile plastered on his face. His black eyes had looked directly into the defender's with no shame or remorse.

GOHAN!

The thought made him shudder. He remembered that as soon as he had gotten over the initial shock of seeing his deceased master before him, he had removed his sword, adopted his Super Saiyan form, and shouted at him. "IMPOSTER!"

It didn't make sense any other way.

But that was before things stopped making sense completely.

"I suppose so…" The imposter had said. He even had Gohan's voice… "So, tell me, Trunks…"

He had known his name…

"Would this face be more suitable to you?"

That wasn't Gohan's voice… Trunks had had to do a double take, for now, instead of his master, he was facing his father, Vegeta, with that smirk on his face and his arms crossed…

Trunks opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to find anything to say.

"Maybe this one?"

This voice came from behind him, and when he whirled around, he was stunned to be staring at the faces of Androids 17 and 18... The androids that had been killed by his own hands…

Caught off guard, Trunks had been hurled to the ground by 'Vegeta'. He fought valiantly with the three of them but only succeeded in becoming wounded. He never knew who he was facing… The had flown behind buildings and taken faces of bystanders… they would appear before him wearing the guise of his mother… and during one of their particular tricks, he remembered a stabbing pain in his neck. One of them had injected him with some sort of black serum that had been collected in a needle and shot directly into his blood stream…

And suddenly all of his power had been taken away. He couldn't transform into a Super Saiyan… he couldn't even fly…

And then he remembered a harsh kick to the head.

Well, that explained the headache… and the unconsciousness… but it still didn't answer his question: Where am I?

He placed his palms on the ground, feeling a smooth, rocky surface… He was beginning to get his bearings, and now he knew how incredibly cold it was. His breath came out of his mouth in ghosts of white smoke, and as he felt around for something, ANY-thing, he could feel his hands going numb.

As he was feeling about, he was abruptly blinded by light flooding the room. He couldn't help but shout out as he shut his eyes.

"That's interesting. You're already awake then, Trunks?"

He finally managed to open his eyes again, and after a moment of focusing, he found himself staring through iron bars a hunched, elderly man with long white hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and a matching beard and mustache. His eyes were blue, but the color was so pale that it was almost unnoticeable. He was dressed in a white lab coat, brown slacks, and black shoes, and while he wore a completely friendly expression as he stared down through his spectacles, Trunks couldn't help but feel sick inside… like something bad was happening…

"Wh-what's going on? Where--" Trunks stammered, looking around. His voice was hoarse, and every time he moved his head, he felt dizzy.

"Oh, do relax, Trunks, relax! You're in my care now."

His care? Calling it fishy was the understatement of the century.

"Who are you?" Trunks asked, his voice demanding an answer.

The old man chuckled and waved his wrinkled hand at Trunks. "You are so tense, dear boy, so tense! I am Dr. Glock."

Trunks scoured his memory to try and find a point when they had met or spoken, for the old man knew his name… but he got nothing out of it than another shot of pain in his skull.

"How do you know me? Why am I chained up and caged like this?"

That was when he heard footsteps again, and when he looked up, he found three featureless forms standing next to the man… They looked like… dolls… incomplete dolls…

And then one of them was Gohan. "That would be because of us. We captured you."

"How are you doing that?!" It was something he'd wanted to ask from the beginning.

"Isn't it marvelous?" Dr. Glock asked with a smile. "They're androids of my own creation, perfect in the ability of camouflage. They're quite wondrous, wouldn't you say, Trunks?"

"HOW DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!" Trunks demanded.

"Ooh, temper, temper…" One of them had taken form of Android 18. "Why wouldn't he know you?"

Trunks glared at her. "Answer the question."

"You're famous!" Dr. Glock laughed. "Famous, dear boy, what did you think?"

"F-famous?" He hadn't been aware of that… For defeating the androids? For being the son of the president of Capsule Corporation?

"Famous, boy, for being the last of the Saiyans!"

It hadn't been the answer he'd expected. "W-what?" He asked dumbly.

Dr. Glock ignored it. "Pity that you're only half… but you'll have to do. You're the last one. The last of your kind. So sad."

"So sad," The androids repeated, all in form of random humans from the town… all without a twinge of sadness in their voice.

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?" Trunks was practically begging. He clenched his fists. I may have to force my way out of here… but not before I get some answers.

"It's all very simple, Trunks," Dr. Glock shrugged carelessly. "I need you. That's about it really."

"Need me…? For what?"

"My, my, you ask a lot of questions, don't you? Ah, well, I'm a bit of an question-asker myself… What I need you for is to help with my creations. My androids, you see?"

"So, you build androids…" Trunks grumbled. "You're beginning to sound a bit like a friend of mine that went by the name of Gero."

"Ah, yes!" Glock exclaimed, eyes darkening with anger, though a smile never left his face. "Gero was a… good friend… of mine too. Until he got was he deserved, the thieving bastard."

"Thieving--"

"Oh, that's right! You don't know! How rude of me, terribly sorry… I was Dr. Gero's apprentice for many, many years, Trunks, many years. He was like a father to me… well, more like a brother, since he was only about five years my senior… Yes, brother is more correct… anyways, yes, I was his apprentice. He taught me everything there was to know about constructing cyborgs. Of course, as many students do, I eventually surpassed him in ability, and I drew out some truly brilliant blue prints. My blue prints wrote out how an android could be created from an original human life form, splendid! It was written out on paper, something Gero never could figure out on his own… and I must say, he wasn't very happy when he realized that I figured it out. So you know what he did? He stole my designs, isn't that a scoundrel move?"

Trunks couldn't believe what he was hearing… Did this mean that Glock was-

"Of course, I knew Gero was that kind of person, so I wasn't necessarily surprised. In fact, I expected it, so I changed part of my blue prints, aren't I clever? I was forced into captivity, so that he could carry out his plans, and I watched as it all unfolded. He never even knew that I had created skeleton key to the cell I was in and could have escaped at any time. I plan ahead like that of course… Anyways, I sat back in my cell and watched as he lured two teenage twins into his clutches. The two had had quite a difficult home life, you see, especially the young man who seemed so very angry. Gero showered the two of them with promises of love and freedom, only to have them chained to a table and forced to watch as he ripped out their organs and replaced them with metal. That's where my change in blue prints comes of course. I removed the information on the control chip. The androids he called 17 and 18 were reborn with unimaginable power, completely free will, and an relentless hatred towards all human beings and all the world. Gero didn't know how to control them, and so he perished, and they were set loose on you unsuspecting folks. So sad."

"So sad," The androids repeated emotionlessly.

Gero wasn't the designer of Androids 17 and 18 after all… Trunks was astonished.

"So, what, are you going to try and turn me into an android now?" Trunk growled, fearing the answer would actually be 'yes'.

"Oh, heavens, NO!" Dr. Glock exclaimed. "It's far too messy a process, no, no… My androids use completely cyborg parts. They just run off of a special serum I have created from alien blood that allows them to change form. See, after Gero perished, I left Earth and traveled the universe. I realized that alien races have such magnificent, magnificent powers of all different kinds. So, I captured one and performed an experiment. As you can see, it was successful."

"What happened to the alien…?" Trunks asked hesitantly.

"Oh, well, when I was through, I didn't need him anymore, so I had him taken care of. Life goes on… well, maybe not for him, but whatever… but anyway, that's where you come in, dear boy!"

"Me?"

"Of course! You see, I decided that, why stop with just shape-shifting? I want more. I fully intend to perfect my android in every way possible. I haven't completely figured it out yet, but I'm planning on adding you to the mix… and I mean that quite literally."

Trunks screamed out, hair flying out of his face and spiking. Before he could begin to put up a fight however, he was injected once again, and he felt his power drain away.

"Can't have you trying to run away now, can we, Trunks?" Dr. Glock said.

Weakness pulled at his eyelids, and with his pain now magnified, he fell unconscious again almost instantly.

…

………

………………


	2. Prisoner

Chapter 2: Prisoner

He vaguely remembered the worst kind of pain imaginable being inflicted on him… the echo of Dr. Glock's voice explaining to him all too kindly that he was testing his durability and his overall strength. Needles… he remembered being injected several times with all kinds of different serums… Ones that dwindled his power level to nothing, others that sent it uncontrollably through the roof.

And yet he could do nothing as it happened, for he was chained to the wall, nude, and in so much pain that he wasn't even aware that he had to escape, much less that he could. Glock tended to sit back and have his androids do the work for him, for they listened to his every command, and the creatures he controlled enjoyed smacking around the defenseless half-Saiyan.

When he woke up, he was in a cell, but not the same one he had been in…. and there were people staring at him.

"Hey, look who's up…" A man's voice… Trunks exhaustedly rolled his eyes up to look at the man kneeling before him.

He was large, larger and more muscular than him at least, and his skin was a pale blue. His navy hair was short on the sides, but in the middle had been pulled back in a long ponytail. He had a large jaw and serious black eyes, but he seemed somehow kind. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and brown pants. Around his wrist were two dark blue lines that looked like tattoos… but they were probably markings…

"You okay, kid?" He asked.

Trunks tried to lift his head to get a better look at the man's face, but it hurt far too bad. He did realize however that his wrists were no longer chained.

The man lifted Trunks's body into a sitting position, leaning him against the wall, and held up two clawed fingers. "How many?" He asked.

"…T-two…"

"Well, look at that, he's still coherent. I told you he would be."

Trunks let his head loll to the side, staring in the direction the man was referring to, and he saw three other people.

"What's your name, kid?"

Trunks looked back at the blue man. "Who are you?"

"A prisoner, like you. My name is Kyanite."

"Trunks…" A prisoner… It unsettled him.

He noticed Kyanite had slightly pointed ears. He wondered what alien race he was.

"Welcome to the group, Trunks," Kyanite said. "You'll settle in just fine, just like all of us."

That was when Trunks remembered the others. The fog in his head had cleared now, and when he looked over, he could see clearly.

The first person his eyes were drawn to was a young Namekian boy who was pacing back and forth nervously. He wore traditional clothing from his planet, a dark blue frock over a long-sleeved white top and white pants. There was the typical puffy collar and brown shoes… just like Piccolo… but the nervous nature of the boy was unlike the other Namekian Trunks knew.

"That's Nemora," Kyanite explained, following Trunks's gaze. "He's a jumpy sort and paranoid. We all originally thought it was because of the experiments, but I'm pretty sure now that he's always been that way."

Trunks gave Kyanite a quick glance, and then switched his gaze to a young child dressed all in white. Even his hair was white! Around his forehead was a golden circlet, and little golden belts hung from the top of his knees to the bottom of his knees, holding the leg of his pants up. His eyes were electric blue, his stare wide-eyed like one who was overly energized. He looked almost human, but it was obvious that he wasn't. He was bouncing on his heels and wringing his hands.

"Who's the boy?" Trunks mumbled.

"Cirus," Kyanite explained. "Good luck holding a conversation with him for more than ten seconds. He's a good kid but has an incredibly short attention span. He's smart as a tack and fast as… well, I'll let you be the judge of that."

And then there was the person in the corner. The only woman of the group sat far from everyone else. She had the reddest hair Trunks had ever seen, so red that it looked almost like it was on fire. It fell down her back and around her shoulders were two white beads decorated each tress that fell over her chest. Her skin was pale, and she had large pointed ears. Her eyes were red just like her hair, and Trunks noticed white gems on her forehead, cheeks, and chest. She wore nothing but white bandages around her breast, a short brown skirt with bandages on her legs, and bandages on her feet. The tips of brown boots stuck out from under the wrapping.

She sat silently, staring at the wall, ignoring the movements of the others.

And suddenly, she turned her gaze on him and Kyanite, glaring at them.

"Alusarin is her name," Kyanite explained, looking away from her at the same time Trunks did. "There's really no point in speaking to her, to be honest with you. She usually won't respond."

"I hate to break it to you, Kyanite, but it doesn't really matter to me," Trunks told him. "I'm not going to be in here long."

"HA!" Suddenly, Nemora burst out.

Everyone turned their attention on him.

Nemora turned to Trunks and pointed a finger at him. "What makes you think you can get out of here? We've been here for months. Kyanite's been here for at least a year. There's no way you're gonna get out of here alive. None of us are. Stop fooling yourself!"

"Nemora, no need to get so brash," Kyanite said. "And don't shout or they'll come in here."

"The bad people," Cirus mumbled.

"He just needs to accept it though, Kyanite," Nemora complained. "None of us are getting out of here alive." He turned his black eyes on Trunks and spoke bitterly, "and I bet this arrogant fool will be the first to succumb to them."

Trunks jumped to his feet, ready to take a swing at him, but a sudden nauseating dizzy spell sent him crashing to the floor.

"So graceful," Nemora mumbled sarcastically and went back to pacing.

Kyanite helped Trunks back to the wall, sighing, "Young people…"

Alusarin glanced at the two of them and then back at the wall. "… What did they capture you for?"

The whole room silenced, and everyone looked in her direction.

" Hey… 'Sarin said something," Nemora whispered. "You gonna start talkin' now?"

"Well, we're all in here for something. I was just curious," She responded, void of any sort of emotion. She didn't even turn her gaze on anyone. "So, what race are you?"

"…Saiyan… and Human. Half and half," Trunks replied.

"I thought all of them were dead," Kyanite said with surprise.

"Saiyans have monkey tails," Cirus said. "They're really tough, tough like really tough."

Alusarin looked back at Trunks. "So, they captured you for your power, your all around physical strength."

"…I… guess…"

"You should guess us!" Cirus exclaimed, shoving his index finger towards Trunks. The child seemed far too excited to be a prisoner… and about five seconds later, it was as if he'd forgotten he'd said it, and he'd gone back to bouncing on his heels and chewing on his lower lip.

Kyanite sighed, sitting back against the wall next to Trunks. "Cirus's race is known for their speed. He can travel faster than… well, to be honest, I don't know how fast he in particular is, because I've never been able to see him in action. We're all constantly injected with that serum that locks our abilities, so nobody knows the extent of each other's power…"

Trunks hugged his knees. So his power had been blocked? There had to be a way around it…

"Anyways, Nemora was snatched for his ability to regenerate his limbs-"

"And his glorious lack of ability to avoid capture," Alusarin smirked, the first sign of emotion on her face.

"Because you did SO MUCH BETTER!" Nemora snapped, turning on her.

"At least I put up a fight," She replied simply.

"Alusarin's race is known for their mental abilities," Kyanite explained. "Psychic powers, and the like."

"Thank you for going into SUCH detail," Alusarin moaned sardonically.

Trunks decided that he wasn't very fond of her. She seemed so hateful of… everything…

"Well, what about you?" Trunks asked, turning to the blue man.

"Oh, me? Well, I have the ability to make my skin virtually indestructible."

"Amazing!" Trunks exclaimed, awestruck by the very idea.

"It would be, but who knows if he can actually do it?" Alusarin mumbled skeptically. "Can we stop talking about our would-be powers?"

"You were talking?" Nemora asked flatly.

She made sure the Namekian saw her middle finger quite clearly.

"BOOM!" Cirus, who had been playing by himself, suddenly shouted out, sending a shudder through everyone in the room.

"I have to tell you, Trunks," Kyanite mumbled, placing his hand over his chest. "Your hope on getting out of here is ridiculous…"

"Hope is all that I've ever had."

"I can only hope you're right."

-

The hours were swirling by in a haze as Trunks found himself chained to the damned wall again, staring down at Glock who was sitting, smiling politely in the corner.

"Try -this one-, try -that one-," He would say, using names that Trunks couldn't remember after only seconds.

The pain however, he did recognize. One particularly memorable one was a blue serum that the androids stabbed directly into his chest. His power level immediately shot through the roof, but the agony brought upon by it was the worst he had ever imagined. It was as if every muscle in his body had tensed and cramped, and his blood seemed to be boiling. He heard his own voice begging the man to stop, pleading with him to let him go and leave him alone… His nerves were so electrified that the tears on his face stung his skin… and that man… that bastard of a man…

…He just sat there, smiling…

"Come now, Trunks, don't you have more stamina?" He asked lightly. "You are a Super Saiyan after all."

He hadn't even realized he'd transformed.

And then he said, "The white one."

All of his power slipped away as he was injected. His head fell, lolling to the side, and he stared weakly at his tormenter, wishing only to be released from the reinforced chains that even Goku would have little to no luck breaking out of them on his own. He would have given anything just to be able to lay down on the floor and sleep for a long time.

"…hmm…" Dr. Glock rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then said, "Give him a good shock."

Down went the switch.

Trunks screamed out as he felt himself being electrocuted. He writhed against the wall he had been confined to, pulling at his restraints with all of his might, but they just wouldn't budge… It was over in a matter of seconds, but it felt like he had been enduring it for hours…

Barely conscious, he looked at the grinning doctor and practically whimpered, "Please… stop this…"

"… Well, all right. I've observed enough of that. Let him down and put him back."

One of the androids hit the button on the far wall, and Trunks crumpled to the floor. Glock knelt down before his trembling form, grabbed a handful of lavender hair and lifted his face up to look at him. "This is the first time you've stayed conscious through the whole experiment, Trunks. Good job." Almost mockingly, he wiped Trunks's chin of the slobber that he couldn't control.

"I… hate you…" It was all he could manage to say.

"Oh, I know you do, my boy…" He said with false sympathy. "I don't really care."

The androids then dragged him off, redressed him in his ragged clothing, and chunked him back into his cell.

"Trunks!"

A distant voice… Gohan?… He couldn't force his eyes open to see.

"Trunks," Kyanite shook him slightly. No response. For the past week he'd been thrown in, he'd given a response when stirred… not this time…

"Is he dead?" Nemora asked.

"He wouldn't let his experiment die. He hasn't even started collecting DNA yet. He's just testing Saiyan powers for his own sick amusement," Alusarin explained from her corner. "He'll be all right. He's strong enough."

Trunks could see his mother sitting at the window, rain pelting on the glass, holding a book. He was only a little boy, eight or nine years old, and he was watching her from the doorway, holding a soda can. "Mother?" He asked. "What are you looking at?"

Bulma turned, smiling. "I was just listening to the rain. It relaxes me."

"The rain always just makes me sad," Trunks told her as he approached, setting his drink on the table. "It looks like the sky is crying. The world is sad."

"Even if it is, that's no reason for you to be sad. Think about all that you have! You have a wonderful home, a great friend in Gohan, a fantastic mother in me -if I do say so myself, and extremely good looks -also from me!" And she laughed, putting her arms around him.

Trunks watched over her shoulder as the rain fell, unable to crack a smile, even though he wanted to. His mother could think of things so positively, but he had seen the carnage… and he just didn't know how he could feel grateful when so many people were so much worse off… He wanted to help those people… like Gohan…

Of course, he'd been too distracted with his thoughts to feel the tears sinking into his shoulder.


	3. Passage

Chapter 3: Passage

It had been two weeks. Two torture-filled, horrid weeks that seemed like years of agony.

Trunks opened his eyes to find himself in darkness. He forced himself up on his arms and knees, looking about for any sign of life. The last thing he remembered was a horrible ache in his bones as he fell from the wall and hit the floor too hard, and now he couldn't tell if he had simply fallen unconscious or if he had actually, finally, succumbed to the suffering and died.

If he was dead… is this what was what lay afterwards? Darkness? Nothing?

"Trunks…"

He looked up, hearing the voice… the familiar voice…

From the shadows emerged Vegeta, his father! He really was dead…

"Father…" Trunks whispered. "You're… here…"

His white-gloved hand reached out to Trunks, offering to help him up.

Trunks reached out a sore arm towards him, but the hand switched into a fist and nailed him right in the jaw.

The half-Saiyan son fell to the ground, his lip bleeding.

"Ha-ha, he's so easy to fool," The android said, after changing form into that of 17. The other had taken the form of a blue-skinned woman with long white hair that Trunks didn't recognize.

"You don't really get it, do you?" She laughed.

And it was then that he was fully aware that he was still alive.

She stuck her leg through the bars and stomped on Trunks's head.

…

………

…………

When Trunks awoke again, he was surrounded by the others. Even Alusarin had gotten up from her corner and approached, though she looked rather bored.

"Good morning, good day," Cirus grinned.

Trunks blinked a few times and focused his vision. "What happened?"

"The androids decided to smack you around a little bit," Nemora said. "They do that sometimes."

"It's best you just stay away from the bars," Kyanite suggested.

"Rookie mistake," Alusarin shrugged. "You're totally bleeding. I thought Saiyans were supposed to be tough."

Trunks had learned to ignore her comments. Kyanite had told him that Alusarin most likely cared more than she made others aware, but he'd yet to see any proof.

He sat back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. His mother must be worried about him… He'd been missing for three weeks in total. How he wished he could contact her…

Nemora walked over to the bars and peeked out. "Y'know you guys got a lot of nerve to screw around with him like that!" He shouted.

"He wouldn't act all brave if they were actually there," Alusarin smirked.

Nemora turned on her, eyes flashing. "At least I care!"

"No, you don't. Why is Trunks suddenly your best buddy?"

He glared at her. "I didn't say that. He's nice enough, so I like him. We can't all be frigid like you."

"Such a shame," She said flatly and went back to her corner.

So Nemora had decided not to hate him… It was somewhat sudden, and Trunks doubted the affectionate feelings would last for long, but it was somewhat relieving to know he wasn't alone in his efforts.

Not that he had actually made any efforts yet… but he had been having a hard enough time staying conscious in the middle of experiments.

It was about an hour before their daily meal of bread and broth was sent in for them. Kyanite, always practical, separated it into equal parts for all of them… except for his own pieces, which were smaller in order to give all the others just a little more.

The taste was bitter and awful, and at first, Trunks had refused to eat it, but as time started to wear on, and his stomach began to rumble, the taste improved all on its own. Gohan had once told him that hunger was the best spice. He hadn't really understood that until now.

Nemora never ate. Since he was Namekian, he didn't have to. It explained why he seemed to be faring better than the rest of them, who were all haggard looking most of the time, sleeping just to be able to forget that their stomachs were growling.

As days, weeks, months went on, Trunks had noticed his loss in muscle mass as much as his hair growth. His physical changes had become the only way he could be aware how much time had passed. Sometimes he would be unconscious for days, and sometimes only minutes, but it always felt like the same amount of time. He'd tried to keep track of how many days had passed, but he'd lost count after about what he thought was the third month.

The only positive aspect to being out for days was that he would find a fine pile of food left for him, and while it was cold and probably beginning to go bad, he felt every joy in scarfing down every bite and even licking the tray, as if he was some sort of animal. In every aspect, it was what he seemed to have become. His Saiyan instincts for survival had long since kicked in. He ate all that he could, he slept in the corner, facing the others in the room, and he studied his enclosure whenever he could, looking for an escape. There was no room to feel safe with the ones he had started out trusting, for a nervous fever had set in on him because of his lack of good food. He became paranoid and suspicious of his fellow prisoners and did his best to keep as far from them as possible and speak to them only when necessary.

Soon enough, while Alusarin was occupying one corner, he was planted in the other, staring at the wall and the bars, using his eyes to examine any possible crack, any possible weakness in them.

He stayed awake as long as physically possible, but eventually he would find himself waking up when he never knew he had been asleep, usually being awakened by Nemora.

The Namekian never seemed to want to stop talking and asking questions… Much louder than Piccolo. He would try to ignore the green boy most of the time, but sometimes he'd find himself answering questions he hadn't even been aware he had been listening to.

He continued with his apprehensive attitude until his hair length reached his ear lobes.

It was after a particularly brutal experimentation and drawing of blood, right after he'd been thrown back into the cell, that he began to think logically for the first time in… well, as long as he hadn't been. His fever faded away when he saw them all watching him, Kyanite and Nemora showing slight concern but still keeping their distance as Trunks preferred.

They were no more than victims, like him. They had no qualms with him. They didn't sic the androids on him. They weren't the androids in disguise (All of these were vicious ideas that had run through his mind into the depths of the night when he forced himself to stay awake).

Relief washed over him as he slowly regained his senses. He was safe in the company of these people… well, safe as he could be.

Still he went and sat in his corner. He no longer held them accountable for anything that had been happening to him, but he wasn't about to try and get on their bad sides either. Even with trust, it seemed that the longer he was imprisoned, the more ferocious his mind and demeanor became. He was on edge constantly, and the last thing he wanted to do was shout and throw punches at the few people he could trust.

A few… what he could assume had been days went by before he was approached. The Namekian took a seat next to him while he sat in the corner and ate. "So…" He said. "Uh…"

He hesitated. Trunks could tell he wanted to ask him a question. While he waited, he stared at the green boy and realized he too had stopped faring so well. He looked sickly and tired.

"Did… you ever come up with an idea to get out of here?" He asked quietly.

Trunks swallowed but didn't speak. He didn't want to tell him no… even if it was the truth… He looked like he was ready to lose all hope. Experiments never ceased on any of them. On days when Trunks wasn't practiced on, one of the others were, and while he very seldom experienced listening to them (because he was usually asleep or unconscious) he knew first hand what they had to go through. The only reason Trunks had yet to break and give up so far was because he had an ingrown sense of stubborn pride from his father.

And so he just didn't say anything.

-

Scream.

Trunks jolted awake and found Nemora next to him, also started from rest.

The young boy, Cirus, sat hunched on the floor, electric blue eyes wide in the dim light. The androids were kicking at him through the bars. Cirus never slept, so he must have been playing or counting cracks in the floor when they spotted him close to the bars.

Everyone watched the little boy get kicked around, heard him yelp out, but they weren't about to try and stop them. What good would it do?

Finally the child seemed to understand that he was under attack and scampered to Kyanite's side, bruised and bloody, but already forgetting that it happened.

And that was when Trunks saw it.

As the android removed its hand from the bar… the seventh bar from the right… it vibrated slightly…

"Loose…" Trunks murmured.

Cirus suddenly burst into tears, and Kyanite cradled the child in his large arms. He wailed loudly and obnoxiously, as most children did when they cried… and it was so sad that Trunks felt his heart sink. For the moment he had forgotten the bar and thought only of his family and the ones he couldn't see. His mother, probably worried out of her mind… Gohan, dead. Vegeta… dead…

And suddenly he was wailing too. Tears spilled from every single one of their eyes.

It was a needed release.

-

While he slept, Trunks once again dreamed of his past. He was nine years old. His mother had burned dinner, and he had stubbornly refused to eat it.

"Well, if you don't like it, than you just don't have to eat tonight!" She had said, after a long argument… and she'd sent him to his room.

After a bit of time fuming, he had decided to show her what-for and sneaked out. He flew out into the city, deciding to get a meal for himself using the money he had stashed under his bed when suddenly the alarms went off and the city went under fire.

He distinctly remembered the fear that welled up inside of him when an explosion sent his body flying into the rubble of a building. As he crawled free from the destruction, he found himself only feet away from Androids 17 and 18. He was only thankful that they had yet to spot him.

He ducked underneath the rubble and watched with terror as they shot energy beams through homes and workplaces, through… anything that did or did not move.

I should do something… He had thought as he trembled in his hiding spot. He had some fighting ability, though he'd never been formally trained… He'd watched Gohan practice time and time again and learned a few of his moves when Gohan didn't know he was watching.

I must stop them.

He started to move, but it was unneeded. He was frozen in spot when the two androids were suddenly stricken by an orange and blue blur.

Gohan.

Fearful, Trunks didn't watch the fight, covering his ears and keeping his eyes shut so that he didn't have to see his best friend injured.

He probably hunched underneath the debris for over an hour before he removed his hands to find it had gone quiet. He peeked through to see Gohan looking about, bloody and bruised but generally okay. The androids had quite obviously escaped, by the look on the half-Saiyan's face.

It didn't matter. Trunks burst from his hiding place, shaking and fighting back tears. Gohan, still on edge, had turned with his fists ready to fight, but he quickly realized who he was facing.

"Trunks…"

"Gohan!" He had yelped, running to him and throwing his arms around him.

"What are you doing here? Your mother is probably worried sick about you!"

Trunks's eyes opened. He'd caused his mother so much pain…

"You look sad."

Cirus.

"I'm fine," Trunks replied quietly.

"About what?"

"…" He realized the child had forgotten. "Never mind."

"About what?"

Trunks didn't reply, letting the short amount of time pass until the child forgot he had asked a question at all.

So strange…

"The robot people are bad," Cirus suddenly said, staring out into space.

"Y-yes, they are."

"They did a bad thing, and then they pretended to be my parents. Now I'm here."

Trunks looked back to the bars, staring directly at the seventh bar from the right.

If he could get it out… they could probably escape… but how was he going to break it without his strength?


	4. Escape

Chapter 4: Escape

Trunks's hair was at shoulder length when he finally managed to put a plan together. The formulation was not very well thought out, and he was 85 sure it wouldn't even work, but he knew that he had to try.

He explained it to the rest of them in a low voice, and while they all looked pretty skeptical, agreements were shared.

Anything to get out of this place.

Trunks knew he was going to need his Saiyan strength back, for he'd tried pulling out the bar without it to no avail. That was part one that he needed to succeed. Then there was the actual escape from the androids and Glock. Part two. He wasn't really sure where they were going to go after that. He didn't think too far ahead because he wasn't very confident it would even work.

And there was no more time for planning. It was time for action.

The androids were sent into the prison cell to give everyone their daily injection of what Nemora called "power-stoppers". They had gotten the accursed things every four hours every day regardless of whether they were conscious or not. Nemora's was blue, Kyanite's was orange, Alusarin's was violet, and Cirus's was green. Trunks's was white and always painful. He had no idea what kind of pain was released into the others because they'd become so stony-faced around the androids that it was a wonder they were even alive when it took place. He'd started to become the same way, come to think of it…

They entered through the door of the cell, the door Trunks had tried to escape from awhile back by trying to scamper between them, only to end up with his needle injected into his neck and increased hours of torture. Every one of them tried it once and failed the same way. They closed and locked the door every time they came in anyways…

It was actually a positive move. The androids had been fooled into thinking that his spirit had been broken. That all of them had been dispirited.

Trunks prepared himself as they entered, plastering on his stony face. He looked to Kyanite who gave him a passing glance. Trunks had given the signal.

As the androids approached the blue-skinned man, who was always first, Kyanite suddenly jumped up and got one of them in a head lock. Nemora immediately jumped up afterwards and kicked the needles out of the other android's hand.

Caught off guard, the cyborgs tried to recover but the plan had already moved into motion. Alusarin had snatched all of the needles and jabbed them into the neck of the free android, sending it crashing to the floor.

It was only a moment longer that the other android had elbowed Kyanite in the stomach and broken free… but it was okay because it was the moment Trunks needed.

And it was good… He could feel his power surging back into his blood stream and for the first time in as long as he had been captured, he began to feel alive again.

Trunks grabbed the android and slammed it into the loose bar. It gave and went clanging to the floor, along with the cyborg.

Kyanite picked up Cirus. "Let's move!" He shouted.

Enjoying his energy, Trunks kicked out several more of the bars, just for his own amusement, and the group clambered out of their filthy cell.

"I don't believe it…" Alusarin muttered, actually making eye contact with Trunks. "What made you think it would work?"

"I didn't think it would," Trunks replied, "but I had to try."

"We got company," Nemora grumbled.

The other android.

Trunks didn't have enough time to react before it ran at him, but before his head could be sliced off with it's hand, Kyanite's arm went around his neck and the skin turned dark blue. The android's hand shattered against it, and Trunks immediately fired an energy beam at it.

They were far from dead, but he didn't care about them at the moment. He just wanted out.

It took him no time to find his sword, leaning against the wall where it had been since it had been placed there on his first day, and Kyanite ripped open the door to the laboratory.

Sunlight poured into the room, and everyone had to squint to be able to focus.

"Come on!" Alusarin shouted, taking Cirus from Kyanite and jumping through the hole. It didn't take any effort to convince them to follow.

Trunks found himself rolling down a steep incline covered in rocks and dirt. He managed to get his footing before falling and found the others had done the same on different places on the way down.

And it was clear. This was a mountain… a mountain in the middle of nowhere.

"Where are we?" Nemora yelled up to Trunks.

"I don't know!" He shouted back down to him and took flight. There was nothing but forest for miles and miles… but he did spot a river not too terribly far away (at least by flight), and there was probably a cave where they could hide out until they got their bearings… and animals in the forest to eat. Meat.

He wiped his mouth to keep it from watering at the thought of real food.

"LOOK OUUUUTTT!!" Cirus sang out, pointing up.

Trunks gazed up at the laboratory they had escaped from to find the androids had recovered from the attack and were descending upon them quickly.

Trunks looked back to them. "GET OUT OF HERE!" He shouted. "I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT!"

They took off towards the sky… everyone except for Alusarin and Cirus, whom she was holding.

Trunks transformed into a Super Saiyan, ready to fight, when there was a sudden twinge that seemed to run through his whole body… he tried to ignore it, which wasn't hard since he'd come under attack.

Of course, he couldn't continue to ignore it… because it was quickly becoming apparent that something was… wrong…

He grew dizzy and found himself struggling to stay in the air. His muscles were stinging. He shut his eyes in the attempt to gain his focus, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself descending. He managed to stop and hold himself in the air, but he was still having trouble focusing his energy.

And the androids were coming…

…and then they were pushed back.

"HEY!"

Trunks looked down the mountain and caught eyes with Alusarin. "I can't hold this barrier for long!" She shouted to him. "Let's get a move on!"

He blinked in confusion for a moment, but nodded and decided to do as she said. The overwhelming sense of dizziness was starting to get to him anyways.

"Why didn't you leave when I told you to?" He couldn't help but question as he came nearer to her.

"I can't fly," She replied simply, grabbing his arm as they took off in the direction the others had gone.

Cirus seemed to be enjoying the breeze in hair, for he was laughing, and for once he seemed like a normal child. Alusarin was too alert to care, for she, using the gems on her forehead, was holding up a barrier that the androids could not break through until they were far enough out of sight that they couldn't be found… at least… that last part was what they were all secretly hoping for.

"Bye bye, bad people!" Cirus suddenly chimed, and Trunks glanced over his shoulder to see the androids had… retreated?

"Where are they--" He started to question, when a dizzy spell hit him so strongly that he fell out of the sky, the trio collapsing into the canopy of trees below.

…

………..

………………

"Trunks… Trunks… TRUNKS!"

His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head up to look for the source of the noise, his forehead collided with it.

"AGH!" They both cried out.

Trunks recovered first to find Nemora hunched next to him, holding to his forehead and groaning. "Is your head made of concrete or something?" He complained. The half-Saiyan ignored the Namekian's shouts, looking around to find his fellow ex-prisoners around him, hiding in a cave…

"What happened?" Trunks asked.

"We almost died because of your plummet," Alusarin hissed, sending him a particularly wicked glare.

"IT WAS FUN!" Cirus chimed, running dizzying circles around the would-be prince.

"I… don't know… what happened to me. I just…"

Kyanite interjected. "Side affect…" was his suggestion as he knelt down next to Trunks and placed his hand on his forehead. "But your fever is gone for now, so I'm sure it'd be all right if we got a move on. If we stay here very long, the androids are sure to find us."

"Oh, sure, fuss over him," Nemora droned. "I'm the one with the concussion from his wicked hard forehead."

"Don't be such a wuss," Alusarin replied, giving a harsh kick to the behind.

"OW!"

"Would you two quit?" Kyanite sighed. "Honestly. You're like children."

"Especially him." Alusarin.

"I HATE YOU!"

Trunks walked to the mouth of the cave and looked out. It was almost pitch black out. The sun had long since gone down, and with the rain-heavy clouds lingering in the sky there was no moonlight.

"I guess we should go…" Trunks sighed. "I suppose you guys are going to try and find your way back to your home planets now, right?"

"Home?" Cirus asked. "YAY!"

"I guess we might as well," Nemora shrugged. "We'll probably be safer there."

"What about you?"

All attention turned to Alusarin, and suddenly she looked awkward. "W… what?" She growled. "I didn't mean anything by it. He has to live here with them. That's all."

"Aw, he's a Saiyan!" Nemora exclaimed, smacking Trunks on the back. "He'll be FINE."

"But he falled out of the sky!" Cirus shouted.

"Fell," Kyanite corrected. "Trunks, are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll deal. I won't be caught off guard again," Trunks smiled. "We have no reason to stay together, so you guys should return to your homes. I'm sure your loved ones will be missing you."

The features on Kyanite's face grew somber, but he smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Trunks stepped out of the cave. "I'll be on my way now then."

Nemora ran out and waved. "GOOD LUCK, TRUNKS!"

"You too!" And with a wave, he left.

-

The rain was harsh and cold on his back as he approached the city he resided in…. and there was an ache in his chest. This weather was eerily familiar. He shut his eyes for only a moment, seeing Gohan's body plastered on his eyelids.

He shook it off and decided to instead keep his thoughts on home. He could have kicked himself for fainting; his mother was worried sick and he was snoozing in a cave. He laughed quietly to himself. Mother…

Mother….

Moth…er…

As he came upon Capsule Corp. he felt his stomach drop…

The place was… there was… a gaping hole in the roof and cracks running over the building… had lightning? No… this…

Trunks slowly descended, seeing more prevalent damage as he drew closer to the building.

He looked in through the gap in the roof and felt all of his breath expel in a shudder.

It…

Couldn't…

Be…

_"**MOTHER!!"**_

-

Alusarin stopped. "Wait." She demanded, calling attention to her comrades who were about to go on their own way.

She looked at them, horrified. "We have to go back. I sense something bad…"

Nemora stared at her, concerned. "Trunks?"

"Trunks."


End file.
